


Plum Wine

by lovesrainscent



Category: Naruto
Genre: F/F, Pastfic, Yuri
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-01-17
Updated: 2011-01-17
Packaged: 2017-10-14 20:51:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,005
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/153335
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lovesrainscent/pseuds/lovesrainscent
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Two girls share a bottle of Japanese plum wine and a late spring night together. My first attempt at yuri. Written for Korovan. Because he asked.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Plum Wine

**Title: Plum Wine**

 **Author: Lovesrainscent**

 **Pairing: Young Yoshino/Tsume Inuzuka**

 **Disclaimer:** I do not own Naruto and I do not make any money from these writings.

 **Summary:** Two girls share a bottle of Japanese plum wine and a late spring night together. My first attempt at yuri. Written for Korovan because he asked.

 **Plum Wine**

Yoshino knows she's being stalked. She's had that sense of being stared at all day. The hair at the base of her neck prickles and a shiver washes over her back, fluttering across her should blades. She crosses the street quickly to the fruit vendor's stand to finish her errands for the day. She tries to occupy her mind with her list of tasks.

Yoshino is a good girl, a dutiful daughter. When not on a shinobi assignment she does her father's marketing for him. Her fiance, Shikaku, is on a mission with his teammates so she has stopped by and tidied up the boys' apartment today as well. She's going home to prepare supper for her father this evening. There's also the laundry to be done and since it's spring and the days are getting longer she may even have time to weed his vegetable garden before it gets dark. Then there's...

A second set of footsteps joins hers on the cobblestones and she has to force herself not to quicken her pace even as she feels her heartbeat quicken in her chest, blood thrumming through her veins.

"Oi, Yoshino," a soft voice calls her name as her pursuer catches up with her. "Wait up a minute."

The black-haired girl stops and turns to meet the gaze of Tsume Inuzuka flanked by her hound Kuromaru. Only slightly older and only slightly taller than her, Tsume is everything Yoshino is not. She is born to one of the oldest shinobi clans in Konoha and is rumored to be in line to be its next head while Yoshino herself comes from a shopkeeper's family. She is jounin to Yoshino's chuunin rank. And while Yoshino is the dutiful, obedient daughter, Tsume is wild with an air of confidence about her that Yoshino feels she'll never have.

"Hello, Tsume," she answers and she hopes that the quaver in her voice is undetectable.

"I've been looking for you all day," the older girl responds.

It's a lie and they both know it. They both know that she's followed Yoshino about the village today, trailed her, always at her heels, making a game of it.

"Oh, uh, sorry, I've been busy running errands and...," Yoshino's voice trails off as she pushes a strand of ebony hair back, tucking it behind one ear.

"Busy tonight?" Tsume arches an eyebrow and studies her expectantly.

The flush creeps across the younger woman's cheeks and she feels like such a _child_ , like such an absolute school girl crushing on another girl this way. She stumbles on the words as she tries to utter an answer. "Oh, well, I have ... things...I should...be doing...for...my father...and...," her voice fades away again and she looks at Tsume then hastily looks away.

Tsume hestitates, studying her before answering. She sighs, "Pity. I heard Shikaku's out of town. The umeshu we made last spring is ready and I thought we could share it tonight." Tsume rocks up on the balls of her feet, back on her heels then settles back down, the corners of her mouth twitch up and for an instant white teeth flash brilliantly. Yoshino shivers, she knows that Inuzuka don't just smile, showing teeth is a challenge, a dare.

"I...I suppose I could ask," and she damns herself for sounding so timid.

Tsume's smile is broad this time and the dare reaches her eyes as she replies. "Yes. That's a good idea, why don't you _ask_. I'll see you at eight."

Weak of knee and short of breath she watches Tsume walk, no _saunter_ , up the street, Kuromaru loping along beside her. Her hands are limp and she clutches the shopping bags tighter to keep from dropping them on the ground and spilling her produce.

In that one utterance, Tsume has summed up the gulf that divides them. 'Why don't you _ask_ , Yoshino?' Ask someone for _permission_ , ask your _father_ , ask your _boyfriend_ , ask if it's _allowed_. While Tsume, on the other hand will do as she damn well pleases.

Yoshino makes up her mind. At eight o'clock tonight she's leaving the house to spend the evening with Tsume.

She muddles through the mind-numbing afternoon, fluffing and folding laundry, preparing and serving an early dinner then spending the later hours in the garden as she hurries the slant of the afternoon sun along in her mind toward the horizon in the west. Finally the shadows lengthen enough so that she decides it's time to go in. A quick shower and she changes and waits nervously for her visitor, bunching and twisting the side of her simple cotton tank dress anxiously in one hand.

Eight o'clock finally arrives in its own sweet time and the light knock at the door announces her visitor has arrived. Yoshino wants to dash out the door immediately but Tsume takes her own time greeting her father and chatting about day to day activities in the village. As they prepare to leave, Tsume reminds her to bring the ice, she herself already has brought the plum wine and the glasses.

Leaving the house it occurs to her that she really shouldn't go since she didn't get all the laundry finished. But as they walk along in the deepening twilight she slips her hand against Tsume's own cool palm, feeling slender fingers close about her own and she forgets all about the laundry.

The path up this side of the Hokage mountain is steep but not overly so. She grips Tsume's hand tighter and they hurry to crest the top. For a moment she's worried that she may have not worked the soil deeply enough about the tomatoes in her father's garden but as she looks out at the village lights twinkling below them and the stars beginning to sprinkle in the sky overhead she forgets all about the vegetable garden at home.

They pour the first of the plum wine, splashing over the ice in their glasses. Cool and sweet and indescribably tangy it's a silky smooth ribbon of delight down her throat. They'd gathered the tiny ume plum fruit together last spring and made the umeshu in Tsume's kitchen, giggling and laughing as they layered the fruit and sugar in the jar and covered it with the shochu alcohol then sealed it up to ferment until the next year, promising to share it together.

Savoring the second glass on her tongue, sugary and tart and full of the promise of perpetual spring, Yoshino reflects that a lot can change in a year. Last spring they had just been two girls laughing and silly and delighting, inordinately so, in each other's company. Now they both have more responsibilities and obligations. Tsume it was rumored has chosen a mate and she herself is engaged. She, Yoshino, is going to be, is destined to be, a perfectly respectable wife raising a perfectly respectable family in a perfectly respectable clan in the village.

As such, she realizes that she really should be putting up some sort of resistance when Tsume presses her lips against her own. She's quite certain that a respectable housewife would not part her lips for Tsume's inquisitive tongue, tasting the plum wine on her friend's mouth. It's been over a year since she's kissed Tsume this way, but she still remembers the sweetness of the girl's mouth and tongue.

And Yoshino is absolutely positively certain that a respectable Konoha housewife would not be shifting and turning so that her back was against her friend's chest, leaning back into her embrace, shivering with delight as Tsume's slender hands glide down her body, over the swell of her breasts and begin pushing up the fabric of her skirt. It's been over a year since they've touched this way, but it still sends the same jitters of adrenaline, danger and delight, through her body.

Yoshino sighs and arches again as Tsume pulls her body back closer against hers, hand moving between Yoshino's legs, lips tickling against her shoulder, nibbling at the crook of her neck. Yoshino knows she really shouldn't be here, it's not respectable in the least.

She leans further back, smiling as Tsume pulls her long dark hair away and drapes it over one shoulder, giving her better access to her neck, her throat. Her nibbling kisses and curious fingers make Yoshino want to both arch back and buck her hips up against Tsume's hand. She has to bite her lip to keep from making more noise than the moans and sighs she can't suppress.

Tsume moves her fingers in small circles over her underwear, tracing, toying, teasing against the fabric. Yoshino thinks, while she's still able to have a rational thought, that even though the cloth is simple cotton it must feel all slick like satin or silk because she herself is now all slick and deliciously wet and hot against Tsume's hands, her fingers.

There's absolutely nothing respectable about her now. Yoshino's breath is hitching ragged in her throat and she's moaning steadily under Tsume's gentle, relentless, petting. It's wonderful, it's wickedly sweet and powerful, just like the umeshe, but it's not enough.

Tsume giggles and Yoshino would swear that she purrs as she plucks the elastic at one leg of her panties, "Are these in the way?"

Yoshino grits her teeth, "God, yes!"

Tsume giggles again and Yoshino pants, lifting her hips as the Inuzuka girl yanks her panties down her legs, sharp fingernails scratching against her thigh along the way. Yoshino kicks them off one ankle but they tangle and hang around the other and she really doesn't give a damn how not-at-all-respectable this looks because Tsume's palm is at her crotch pressing her legs apart and her curious fingers are able to do more than trace and tease.

And Tsume makes her feel free and Tsume makes her feel sexy and Tsume makes her feel alive.

Yoshino whines softly at first, as Tsume's fingers slide over her without the interfering undergarment, she pushes up then back, gritting her teeth against a groan. Tsume understands the need behind her friends' frantic movements, because her fingers began to move in a steady pattern; up, down, press, up, down, press, up, down, press again and again. Yoshino can't help but urge her on, rolling her hips and panting, sighing and moaning, giving voice to her desire, her need.

Leaning back, with her legs spread wide, the black haired girl scrambles frantically with her own hands, heels of her palms against the dirt on either side of Tsume's legs seeking purchase her own fingers flex against the ground.

Tsume slips her other hand forward to join the first, nails scraping lightly across the bare skin of her thighs, and Yoshino sucks in sharply, a hoarse breath. Then Tsume's fingers are slipping, stretching, rubbing, perfect pressure, perfect delight, and Yoshino imagines the sight of herself in the forest, skirt bunched up around her hips, legs spread wide and panties carelessly around one ankle, wanton and deliciously decadent and, oh, she is so close, so close and she is going to scream, she is by God going to pant and scream and howl at the moon.

Tsume chuckles and as she presses hard one more time just right Yoshino's world shatters into oblivion and she really does scream and there are stars behind her eyes as well as the ones in the sky.

As Yoshino's body goes limp in her friend's arms, Tsume holds her, stroking her hair, petting her and waiting for her breath to even. She kisses her cheek and whispers, wickedly delicious in her ear, "My dear little Yoshino, what would our Shikaku think if he could see you now?"


End file.
